


CMO's Log: Abridged

by Proudmoore



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, medical writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 11:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proudmoore/pseuds/Proudmoore
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for my 400 follower celebration on Tumblr.  Each fic is medical-themed.





	1. Bones x Reader - ADHD

Leonard can tell that you’re having trouble focusing.

He sits beside you in your third year xenophysiology class and he’s always watching you out of the corner of his eyes, observing the way you fidget and doodle on your PADD when you should be taking notes.  He knows you do well on your exams and your homework, but he’s also witnessed the dark shadows beneath your eyes on due dates and the way you seem to calm right down and focus after a nice, strong cup of coffee.  
  
One day, as you wait for your professor to arrive, he watches you fidget nervously with your uniform sleeve and he decides he can’t take it anymore.  
  
“You okay?”  He asks conversationally.  “You look a little wired.”  
  
You shrug, tapping your stylus absentmindedly against your desk in a brisk rhythm.  
  
“Maybe it’s none of my business,” he continues. “But I can help you with that.”  
  
Raising an eyebrow curiously, you turn your head to face him.  
  
“With what, exactly, Dr. McCoy?”  You query.  
  
“With your ADHD,” he drawls, his gaze lingering on yours.  “And you can call me Leonard.”  
  
“How did you know?”  You ask further.  
  
He chuckles softly, the warm, rich sound filling your ears and making your heart skip a little – he’s so wonderfully handsome when he smiles.  
  
“Darlin’, I’d be a piss poor doctor if I couldn’t spot the obvious signs,” he replies.  “You’re restless, fidgety, tense, distracted – I could go on.”  
  
“Please do,” you say flatly.  “Continue pointing out all of my flaws.”  
  
“Oh stop,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Really, I can help if you’ll let me. Two hundred years ago there would have been no guarantee that any treatment would have been effective, but we have treatments now that’ll have you feeling better by day’s end and will last in the long term, it’s just a matter of picking the one that’s right for you.”  
  
You consider his words, rolling them over in your mind, smiling when you reach a decision.  
  
“Fine,” you reply.  “Just name the time and place.”  
  
“After classes this afternoon at the campus clinic,” he offers.  
  
You nod.  
  
“It’s a date,” you say with a grin.  
  
He laughs, making your heart skip again, and you look down as he reaches out to you, cupping several old-fashioned paperclips in his palm.  
  
“What’s this?” You say curiously.

“Fidget toys,” he replies.  “If you play with them during the lecture, it’ll be easier to pay attention. I promise.”  
  
You take them from his palm, your fingers lingering a second or two longer than is absolutely necessary, and set them on your desk.  Picking one up, you begin to unfold it, bending it this way and that as you glance over at the doctor again.  
  
“Thanks,” you say warmly.  “This just might do the trick.”  
  
The smile that he gives you in response is all you can think about for the duration of the lecture that follows.


	2. McChekov (friendship) - Allergic Reaction

“Dr. McCoy, may I speak with you?”  Pavel asked, approaching the physician in the mess hall line up.

Leonard turned on his heel and looked down at the young man, his eyes widening as he took in the younger man’s appearance.  His hair was ruffled and his cheeks and chin were a bright red, angry color.

“My God, man, what happened to you?”  The doctor inquired.

Pavel shrugged.

“I developed this rash a short while ago,” he replied.  “It’s very itchy.”

McCoy rolled his eyes and put a hand on Chekov’s shoulder, encouraging the younger man to walk with him.  Pavel looked dismayed at leaving the lunch line, but he allowed himself to be led anyway.  Once they’d arrived in med bay, Pavel took a seat on a bio bed as Leonard went to work with a tricorder, scanning the ensign.  He chuckled inwardly and glanced up at the other man.

“What were you doing just before you developed this rash, Mr. Chekov?” Leonard asked.

Chekov flushed beneath the rash, but his gaze didn’t waver.

“I was on the bridge,” he replied.

“Is Jim suddenly using an air freshener on the bridge?”  Leonard asked, pointedly sniffing the air.  “With hints of grapefruit and peach?”

Pavel sweated nervously where he sat as McCoy turned away to prep a hypo.  He returned to the young Ensign’s side a moment later, injecting the medication easily.

“I was… courting a lovely woman,” Chekov admitted.

“With the distribution of that rash, I’d say you were more than courting her, Ensign,” McCoy teased.

Chekov’s eyes widened and the poor kid looked like he was about to faint as he frantically shook his head, his curls bouncing.

“No!  You misunderstand, doctor,” he blurted.  “It was nothing like that!”

McCoy laughed, clapping the younger man on the shoulder.

“Relax Chekov, I’m messing with you,” the doctor said with a wink.  “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say you’re allergic to her perfume.  Next time you want to kiss her neck, have her hold off on the stuff.”

It was a good minute before Chekov realized what the doctor had said, but when he did, he laughed and nodded, still blushing a little.  He hopped off of the bio bed and made his way toward the exit.

“Thank you, doctor,” he said warmly.  “You have been most helpful.”

McCoy smiled.

“Anytime, kid.”


	3. Kirk x Reader - Anorexia

You’ve taken to carrying an apple around with you everywhere you go just so it looks like you’re eating.  You usually just toss it aside, though, in favor of continuing on the trajectory your weight loss has taken since you’d stopped eating much of anything.  People are beginning to notice the change, though, and you know you can’t continue to deny it forever.  
  
Jim’s the first to confront you about it. He’s kind and soft-spoken as he comes right out and says what he has to say:  _what’s going on_?  He asks you why you’re not eating, his blue eyes intent on yours, wordlessly pleading with you to open up.  He’s patient and quiet, giving you space to open up in your own time as you wrap your arms around yourself for comfort.  
  
“I was anorexic when I was younger,” you explain.  “I got better but…  That feeling’s always been there.  Sometimes it comes on stronger than others, and when it does, I can’t help myself.  I slip back into those old habits.”  
  
Jim is quiet for a long time.  You shift a little in place, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious.  You fluff out your sweater a little bit in an attempt to hide the jutting out of your collarbones and hips, wanting nothing more than to hide away and have Jim forget he’d ever noticed anything was amiss.  
  
“How long?”  He asks softly after a while, his gaze flitting back to yours.  
  
“This time?  A month?  Six weeks? I’m not really sure,” you reply.  
  
You’re surprised at your own candor. You’ve never been especially good at talking to anyone about your feelings, let alone such self-destructive ones, but Jim’s presence and demeanor are strangely comforting.    
  
“You haven’t reported it to anyone in medical.”  
  
It’s a statement, not a question, and you shake your head.  To be perfectly honest, you hadn’t even really caught on to how bad things had gotten until very recently.  It’s easy to overlook and forget to take care of yourself when you’re throwing yourself into your work.  
  
“Okay,” Jim says gently, reaching out to take your hand.  “I want to help you, sweetheart.  You need to tell me how I can do that, but I also need you to come down with me to see Bones.”  
  
You shake your head at the mere thought of the intimidating CMO, tears springing to your eyes.  Not letting go of your hand even as you try to pull away, Jim reaches up to brush your tears away and shushes you quietly.  
  
“I need you in good health if you’re going to keep on doing your job on this ship,” Jim explains.  “It’ll be okay, I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll take care of this.  You don’t have to rush into counselling if you’re not ready, but you need to let us take care of you.”  
  
Your gaze is downcast so Jim can’t see the fear in your eyes, nor can he fathom the amount of strength and determination to get better – for yourself and for him – it takes for you to finally nod in acknowledgement.  As you do, he squeezes your hand, tugging on it gently and pulling you into a warm, secure embrace.  
  
“I’m so proud you,” he murmurs into your hair.  
  
His pride gives you the courage you so desperately need.


	4. Bones x Reader - Asthma

You gasp for air as you come to a stop behind a tree large enough that ten people couldn’t link hands around the base, listening closely for the war cries and footfalls of the hostile natives chasing you and the ship’s CMO.  You’d been part of a larger landing party, but you’d become separated from the others during the course of the chase, so now it’s just you and the doctor. Doubling over, you put your hands on your thighs and try your best to steady your breathing, but you know there’s only so much you can do now that your asthma’s started acting up from the exertion.  
  
“You okay, darlin’?”  Leonard asks, his own breathing slowly leveling out after the run.  
  
You shake your head and straighten up a little, wincing at the pain of a stitch in your chest.  
  
“Can’t… breathe…” you gasp, your airways tight nearly beyond the point of wheezing.  
  
“Hang on, darlin’,” he reassures you as he slips his med kit off of his shoulder and unzips it.  
  
You can’t do much else as your lungs collapse in on themselves and you don’t even flinch when you feel a hypo at your neck a moment later.  The sensation of the medication is a familiar sting and chill and you close your eyes, focusing on Leonard’s words as he tells you to breathe as deeply as you can while the drug takes effect.  It doesn’t take long and within minutes you’re breathing somewhat more easily again.  
  
“Damn it,” Leonard swears at your side.  
  
You glance over at him, query in your gaze.  
  
“Tricorder’s out,” he grumbles.  “Bear with me, here, darlin’.”  
  
You watch him curiously as he steps up behind you and places his hands on your upper arms to hold you still.  He presses an ear to your back and asks you to take a deep breath, moving his head and asking you to repeat the inhalation a few more times here and there.  You turn around to look at him as he finishes and he shrugs, reaching out to take your wrist and count your pulse.  
  
“That would have been a lot easier if I’d had a stethoscope, but beggars can’t be choosers,” he offers, his eyes roaming your face, taking in your condition.  
  
A smile pulls at your lips as he releases your wrist and you close the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his chest so you can feel safe in his embrace as you wait for rescue.  
  
“I’ll take any excuse to have your hands on me,” you murmur.  
  
“Explains why you’re such a good patient,” Leonard teases.  
  
You smack his arm playfully as you feel the familiar tingling associated with the transporter pulling you through space and taking you back to the ship where he can take care of you properly.


	5. Bones x Reader - Binding

You keep your back to the mirror as you unwrap the thick elastic bandage from around your chest, allowing your breasts to relax into their natural shape and position.  They’re small, barely there, but you’re still unhappy to have them staring back at you as you shed that which keeps you feeling more like your true self out in the public eye.  If you didn’t need to shower, you could avoid ever taking it off, but you know from experience that leaving it on and letting it dry on your skin only leads to dryness, irritation, and infection.

As you remove the last coil of fabric, you shiver at the contrast of the cool room air on your breasts and you reach up, covering them with your palms.  At that moment, the bathroom door inches open and Leonard walks in, taking in the sight of you clad in nothing but your briefs.  
  
He steps closer to you, smiling at you sadly as he watches you curl in on yourself, your discomfort clear as day.  Reaching out, he gently runs his fingertips over the angry red marks on your rib cage where the bandage has been biting in too tightly again.  You hiss as his touch aggravates the marks, causing a stinging sensation.

“Let me put something on these marks for you,” he murmurs softly.  “Then I’ll get into the shower with you and help you wash up.”

You nod and watch him as he pulls open a cabinet near your hip, pulling out a small container of salve that he keeps on hand just for such occasions.  You know to lift your arms over your head without being asked and you rest them there as Leonard begins rubbing the medicine into your skin.  It’s soothes on contact and makes you feel better in an instant, especially as there is nothing even remotely sexual about Leonard’s touch at your breasts.  There’s nothing untoward about his gaze, either, and when you’re with him like this it feels like your breasts don’t matter, like they’re not there and no longer a part of you - something you hope will become a full-time reality once you finally pluck up the courage to have the surgery you need.

Leonard sets the salve aside a moment later and moves over to the shower enclosure, starting up the water so that it can get warm for the two of you.  In the meantime, you lose your last vestige of clothing and watch Leonard undress, admiring his body and dreaming of the day where your chest will be as flat as his.  
  
The world falls away as the two of you shower and you close your eyes as you allow him to wash the grime of the day away.  He’s amazing, incredible, and you thank the stars that you’d gotten lucky enough to find him.  He treats you the way you want to be treated and does everything in his power to support you, and as his fingertips run over your back, tracing your shoulder blades as soap bubbles cascade over them, you wonder just how you’ll ever be able to repay him for the love and kindness that he shows you.


	6. Bones x Reader - Diabetes

You’re clutching your injured left arm to your chest as you’re beamed back onto the Enterprise with the rest of the away team after a first contact mission gone wrong.  The moment you and your crew had touched down planetside, the planet’s indigenous peoples had been hostile.  You’d been led on a chase and over a cliff, landing in the water and effectively frying all of your communicators.  Most of your team made it through just fine, but you’d cut it a little too close and had taken a tumble down the side of the embankment instead of clearing it like the others.  You’d mangled your left arm and your little med kit in the process.

Leonard swooped down on you immediately as you stepped off of the platform, bracing yourself with each step.  He threw question after question at you as he led you down to the med bay and ordered you immediately up onto one of the bio beds therein, coming at you with a tricorder.

“Damn it,” he barks, glancing at the read out.  “Your blood sugar’s over 350.  What the hell happened?!”

With your uninjured arm, you reach for your hip pouch, opening it up to reveal the contents of several cracked and leaking insulin vials.

“I had an accident,” you reply.  “I was a bit more concerned with not dying than I was with making sure I was under 140.”

Leonard makes a noncommittal noise and stalks away, returning with a hypo and two vials.  You grit your teeth for the sting of the first - insulin - and then the second - a painkiller.  Once they’re on board, you relax as a pleasant warmth spreads through your body from the analgesic and allow yourself to be guided to lie back.

He makes quick work of cutting away what remains of your sleeve and moves on to patching up your arm. It’s cut and scraped up - and fractured in two places to boot - but less than a half hour with some of the med bay’s magic machines and you’re back in one piece.  You shift around a bit, watching Leonard as he scans you with his tricorder again, his expression relieved this time.

“132,” he supplies.  “That’s much better.”

You smile up at him.

“I knew I’d be fine,” you murmur, the draw of the painkillers luring you into sleep.  “I’ve got the best doctor in the universe taking care of me.”

“You sure do,” he says with a wicked grin.  “But I’m not letting you off that easy.  I’m putting you on a saline drip and keeping you in here overnight to make sure your glucose stays within normal limits.”

You nod, yawning widely.

“Whatever you say, doc,” you say sleepily.  “Just wake me when it’s time for my next shot, ‘kay?”

His chuckle is the last thing you hear before dozing off.

“That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling a blanket up around you and leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.


	7. Bones x Reader - Eczema

Leonard finds you in your bathroom, scratching frantically at the dry, cracked skin on your knuckles.  The eczema you’ve been cursed with from childhood rears its ugly head from time to time, and now is one of those times.  You’d only started feeling the familiar dryness a day or two before, but now your hands look awful - flaking, peeling - and they feel even worse.  You’d do anything to get the itching to stop.  Anything, it seems, besides just asking your boyfriend - the fleet’s best physician - for something to help with it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you have eczema?”  He asks as he looks at your hands, not needing a tricorder to make the diagnosis.

You shrug.

“I guess I’ve just gotten so used to it that it never occurred to me that I should,” you reply.

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at you.

“Stay here, darlin’,” he says softly.  “I’ll be right back.”

As he takes his leave, you run your hands under a stream of cool water to soothe the itching and stinging in the affected skin.  You don’t linger too long as water tends to make things worse, and you fight with yourself as you towel off, trying desperately not to rub too hard and disturb the skin even more.

Leonard returns a minute later with a small container of some kind of salve in his hands.  You lean against the counter and watch as he uncaps it and scoops a little of the mixture onto his fingers.  You pull a face at the feeling of the vaguely greasy salve on your skin but allow him to spread it over every affected inch and rub it in.  It’s like a lovely little hand massage and you revel in the feelings of his fingers gliding over your knuckles and the backs of your hands.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he finishes up and moves to wash his hands.

“You can thank me by coming to see me right away the next time you have a flare up,” Leonard says with a wry smile.  “Is there anywhere else you’ve got it?”

You bite your lip for a moment and shake your head.

“No, but I can think of quite a few spots I’d like you to massage anyway…” you trail off.

Without even drying his hands first, Leonard reaches out to put his hands on your neck, kneading there gently with his thumbs.

“Just tell me where and I’m there,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink.


	8. Kirk x Reader - Fever

“Hey babe, I missed you today,” Jim calls as he steps into your quarters, glancing around for signs of life.

  
“I’m in here,” you call from the bathroom.  
  
You shiver even under the almost too-hot shower spray, the intense steam in the room obscuring Jim from your view even as you hear his boots fall on the bathroom’s tile floor.  
  
“You’re going to drown in all of this steam,” Jim teases.  “Why so hot?”  
  
You take a deep breath, letting the steam fill your lungs and clear some of the congestion in your chest, and you reluctantly turn off the water.  You slide the shower door open and reach out, taking the towel Jim is holding out to you with a thousand-watt smile.    
  
“I was really cold,” you answer.  “I couldn’t stop shaking.”  
  
He frowns, those brilliant blue eyes roaming over your features with concern.  
  
“It’s easily seventy five degrees in here,” Jim comments.  “Are you feeling okay?”  
  
You shrug as you towel yourself off, immediately beginning to shiver again as the relatively cool room air licks at your hot, damp skin.  Jim moves the pajamas you had set aside earlier closer to you and you smile gratefully at him, slipping them on quickly.  
  
“I’ve been really fatigued all day,” you reply. “And I think I might have a fever.”  
  
Jim’s expression becomes concerned as he steps up to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for an embrace, pressing his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss.  The way his fingers stroke along your spine as he holds you makes you weak in the knees and you burrow your face into his neck, not wanting to pull away just yet, enjoying his warmth.  
  
“I’m going to call Bones to come by and see you, baby girl,” he says softly, carefully leading you out the bathroom door and towards your bed, his arms still around you.  
  
“I’m fine, Jim,” you groan, allowing him to pull away so that he can coax you into bed and pull the blankets up, tucking them in around you.  
  
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Jim says softly. “It was an order.  I just want to make sure my baby girl stays in tip top shape.”  
  
You roll your eyes, pulling the covers up over your head and hiding away from Jim as he snaps open his communicator and calls the CMO.  Once he’s done, he moves around so he can lie on the bed next to you and he drapes an arm over you, reaching up to pull the covers down enough that you won’t suffocate beneath them.  
  
“Besides, the sooner he can make you feel better, the sooner I can make you feel really good,” he teases.  
  
You groan and close your eyes, snatching the covers back from him and pulling them back up over your head once more, getting a laugh out of Jim.  
  
“You’re incorrigible.”


	9. Bones x Reader - Henoch-Scholein Purpura

You dash into the Academy’s medical building wearing a decidedly not-regulation pair of pajama pants and a tank top - the same outfit you’d awakened in after sleeping off the strep throat infection you’d been prescribed antibiotics for the day prior.

After a brief, panicked exchange with the receptionist at the desk, you’re led into an exam room and instructed to wait for the doctor.  Sitting pretty is easier said than done, however, and you find yourself pacing back and forth in the room anxiously, stretching your aching knees, rather than perching on the bio bed.

The door slides open and your sometimes doctor, full-time boyfriend walks in, his eyebrow quirked in the way that only he can manage without looking completely ridiculous.  You stop pacing and stare him down, caught like a deer in the headlights.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?”  He asks, approaching you and wordlessly encouraging you to back up toward the bio bed.  “Did those antibiotics not do the trick?”

“I don’t know,” you stammer.  “You tell me.”

You sit up on the bed and pull one of your legs up, planting your heel on the edge of the exam table and pulling up your pants to expose your lower leg.  It’s covered in angry, deep red patches.  To your untrained eyes it looks terrible and you’re completely convinced that you’ve got something a lot more sinister than strep throat.

You watch Leonard as he leans in a little closer and runs his fingertips over the lesions.

“Aren’t you going to put on gloves?!”  You yelp.

He chuckles softly.

“It’s not contagious,” he assures you.  “Do you have pain anywhere?  In your joints, or your abdomen?”

“My knees are sore,” you reply, still looking at him warily.

Straightening up, he retrieves a tricorder and gestures for you to lie down.  Rolling your pants back down, you comply, watching him as he scans you with the instrument, his expression neutral.

“What is it?”  You ask impatiently.  “What can you do about it?”

He finishes the scan, putting the tricorder away and smiling at you, reaching out to playfully ruffle your hair.

“It’s called Henoch-Schonlein Purpura, or HSP,” he replies.  “Not a lot I can do, sweetheart, it’s just got to run it’s course.  I’ll give you something to help the knee pain, and the rash will fade on its own in a week or two.  Your kidney function is fine, but I’ll want to re-check it in a couple of days to make sure it stays that way, so I want to see you again on Friday.”

It’s a relief knowing that you’re not in any sort of danger and you feel your cheeks heat up with a blush as you meet his gaze.

“Can I see you before then?”  You ask.  “I may be confined to my quarters until I’m feeling better, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.  How about a movie tonight after your shift?  I’ll have popcorn ready.”

His smile is dazzling and sets your heart fluttering.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says with a wink.


	10. Bones x Reader - Hypoglycemia

You shift in your seat, your forehead resting in your clammy palms as you try to buckle down and focus on your report on the material culture of the tribe you had recently encountered on a first contact mission.  You feel awful in a completely peculiar way and you just want to be done so you can go and lie down.  You feel torn between anger and tears and you throw your stylus down in frustration as the door behind you slides open and Leonard joins you in his office, where you’ve taken refuge.

“Must you?”  You snap.

“Beg pardon?”  Leonard asks, his footsteps drawing nearer as he approaches you.

“I’m trying to get a report done here,” you say icily.

You can practically feel the raised eyebrow look he’s undoubtedly giving you boring into you.  You staunchly refuse to look at him as he kneels beside you and you pull away as he puts a hand on your arm.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?”  He asks softly.

“Nothing,” you snap, tears springing to your eyes.  “I’m fine, leave me alone!”

You feel his hand cup your cheek and, after a momentary struggle, allow him to turn your head back around so he can peer at you more closely.  You roll your eyes as his expression grows concerned and he scans you with his tricorder.  You’re tempted to swat it away, but you refrain because even just lifting your arm feels like too much work.

“Your blood sugar’s low, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his tone noticeably softer.

He pulls away from you and stands, moving to his desk.  Pulling open a drawer, he pulls out a granola bar.  Returning to your side, he unwraps it and holds it out to you.  You wrinkle your nose at it and shake your head.

“Eat it,” he implores you.

“No, I’m fine,” you insist.

“It’s this or a hypo,” he says flatly.  “Your choice.”

You snatch the bar out of his grip and bite into it angrily.  Leonard gives you an encouraging smile.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re feeling better and you blush as Leonard scans you with his tricorder again, this time looking much happier with the result.  

“So how’s the report going?”  He asks.

“Fine, you reply, smiling sheepishly.  “Thank you.”

“Anytime, darlin’.”


	11. McKirk - Malaise

The door to the captain’s quarters slides open, admitting the ship’s CMO.  Jim can tell the other man has used his personal pass code and not his medical override, and he smiles at their familiarity.  He glances over his shoulder from where he’s sitting on the couch, curled up with a blanket in his lap and a book in his hands.

“Jim, I went up to the bridge to see you and Spock told me you’d taken the day off,” Leonard begins, his voice thick with concern.  “That’s unlike you.  What’s wrong?”

His tricorder, always at the ready, is out and being waved around Jim’s face no sooner than Leonard has crossed the room.  Jim reaches up, pushing the device away, recoiling away from the instrument.  Leonard scowls, muttering something about wishing that for once Jim would be sensible and let himself be taken care of under his breath.

“I’m fine, Bones,” Jim assures the doctor.  “Sit down, make yourself at home.”

“I have half a mind to drag you down to the med bay for scans, that’s how uncharacteristic you letting Spock man the bridge outside of an active conflict is,” Leonard grumbles as he sits down opposite the captain. 

“Don’t you ever just have a day where you feel off but you can’t put your finger on it?”  Jim asks, setting his book aside in favor of watching his lover.

“The word you’re looking for is malaise,” the CMO supplies.  “And I still wish you’d let me take a quick look at you.”

“I’d rather you stay and relax with me,” Jim argues.  “No doctoring me - that’s an order.”

Leonard rolls his eyes.

“I’ve got work to do, Jim,” he argues.  “I can’t stay for long.”

“I can relieve you of your duties for the day, if that helps,” Jim says with a grin, mischief shining in his blue eyes.

“You’re incorrigible,” the doctor bemoans.  “Alright, ten minutes.  I can come by at the end of my shift and bring you some chicken soup for dinner - that’s the cure.”

Jim nods and moves so that he’s leaning against Bones’ chest, his head resting on the doctor’s collarbone.  Leonard, in turn, wraps one arm around the younger man and cards the fingers of his free hand through Jim’s hair.  A touch of the captain’s forehead reveals no signs of fever and if he eventually rests his fingertips just right so he can feel the captain’s strong, steady pulse beneath them, well, Jim’s none the wiser and Leonard is relieved that everything seems fine.  
  
Turning his head down, Leonard presses a kiss into Jim’s hair, resting his cheek atop the captain’s head as he idly strokes Jim’s neck, lulling the captain into sleep.  As the younger man begins to snore softly, the doctor shifts so he can get out from under the other man and lays Jim down, tucking the blanket up around his shoulders.  With one last gentle kiss to Jim’s temple, he leaves the room to get back to work, his cuddle meter filled enough to get him through the day until he can return to take Jim in his arms once more.


	12. Bones x Reader - Necrotizing Fasciitis

“It’s necrotizing fasciits,” Leonard explains, having finished his scan.

Though you’re not in any way medically trained, your mind latches onto the diagnosis and immediately takes off running.  You’ve never admitted it to anyone, but you’re something of a history buff, and for a while after starting to date Leonard you had been obsessed with the history of medicine.  You remember reading about the condition - more commonly known as flesh eating disease in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries - and the images that pop into your mind as his words sink in are horrifying.

“What do we do?!”  You exclaim, considering the stories of surgeries, amputations, sepsis, and death you recall from your reading.  “Oh my god, am I going to die?!”

Leonard’s eyes widen at your panic; he’s confused at what’s going through your head.

“Of course not,” he promises.  “Darlin’, where would you even get that idea?”

You look away from him, casting your gaze down to the floor.

“I may have been doing some reading,” you mumble.  “I’m kind of weirdly fascinated by gross medical history, and I’ve read about flesh eating disease before…”

You knit your eyebrows together in an expression of hurt and glance up at him as you hear him chuckling.

“Do you really think I’d still be standing here and reassuring you that things were going to be okay if we had anything to worry about,” he asks.  “Just relax, darlin’ - we’ve got an easy fix for this in this day and age.  I’m going to give you a hypo with a loading dose of a strong antibiotic, then I’m going to clean that wound and apply some gel to help the layers of your skin knit back together.  I’ll keep you in here for a day or two for dressing changes and have you put on a course of IV antibiotics too, just so we’re sure it doesn’t come back.  You’ll be right as rain by week’s end.”

You can feel your cheeks flaming from embarrassment and you have to resist smacking yourself for being so stupid.  Of course there’s an easy fix for flesh eating disease these days; there’s an easy fix for almost everything, and you’re chagrined at the fact that you’d never even thought to check into what all of the horror had paved the way for.

“Is there any way you can just forget my little freak out?”  You ask, your gaze focused on the dark reddish-purple spot on your arm where the bacteria are growing.

“For you, darlin’?”  He asks, stepping up to you and pressing the aforementioned hypo to your neck.  “Anything.”


	13. Bones x Reader - Post-Viral Fatigue

Your eight hour work day felt like it had lasted three times as long.  The walk to your quarters had felt like a trek through quicksand, the way the artificial gravity had pulled at your legs, and even now as you’re changing to get into bed you feel like lifting your arms is orders of magnitude more difficult than it normally is.

Glancing at your chron as you push the last button of your favorite flannel pajamas through its respective buttonhole, you realize it’s far too early to go to bed even though you feel like you could sleep for a month.  Sighing, you slip your feet into a pair of slippers and plod out into the living area, intent on making tea.  Your body has other plans, however, and you only make it as far as the couch before your legs give out and you find yourself dropping onto its cushions, limp from exhaustion.

“What the hell is wrong with me,” you grumble, reaching out to pick up your comm.

Sending Leonard a quick message, you set your comm back down within arm’s reach and shift around until you’re as comfortable as possible.  You shiver a little and burrow into the sofa, curling yourself up into a little ball to conserve heat as you wait for Leonard to answer your call.  Thankfully, you’re not left waiting for long as moments later you hear the door to your quarters sliding open and you can tell just by the familiar footfalls that it’s Leonard.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”  He asks by way of greeting.

Picking up your head just enough to glance at him as he approaches you and sits down on the coffee table directly across from you, you smile weakly up at him and fall back once more.

“I don’t know,” you bemoan.  “I think I might be getting sick again.”

You’re not in the least bit surprised when he pulls a tricorder out from somewhere in his uniform and begins to sweep it over your body, his gaze intent on the small screen.  Setting the device aside a moment later, he stands and briskly disappears from your line of sight.  You can hear him moving around near your kitchenette and you crane your head to look at him but don’t get very far.

“Are you tired, aching a bit all over, feeling really lethargic?”  He asks, approaching your side again a few moments later with what you realize is a mug of replicated tea in his hands.

“Yeah,” you reply, watching him set it down and pick up a blanket.

“That’s normal, darlin’,” he explains softly, shaking the afghan out and draping it over you.  “You don’t just shake off the flu over night.”

You groan, shifting around so the blanket is pulled right up to your chin, keeping you warm.

“How long  _does_ it take to shake it?”  You query.

“A week or two, tops,” he assures you.  “But I’ll try to nurse you back to health sooner.  I’ve yet to come across anything that my momma’s chicken and dumplings couldn’t chase away.”

You take a deep breath, smiling on the exhale.

“That sounds lovely,” you breathe, thanking the stars for giving you the sweetest boyfriend in the universe.


	14. Bones x Reader - Prognosis

“Welcome back, darlin’,” a soft, warm voice calls to you through the blanket of darkness that’s still obscuring your vision.  
  
It takes you a minute or two to blink your eyes open at last and you recoil as you do; even though the lighting overhead has been dimmed to sixty percent, it’s still enough to needle at your retinas.  
  
“Hey,” you croak, your throat dry and sore. “How’m I doin’, doc?”  
  
“Much better now that we’ve got that pheochromocytoma out,” he murmurs, smiling.  “How do you feel?”  
  
“Tired,” you mumble.  
  
His chuckle is the last thing you hear before slipping right back into sleep.  
  
You wake up again several hours later and the CMO is once again leaning over you, though is gaze is on the monitors overhead rather than on you.  
  
“What’s up, doc?”  You ask, your thoughts and voice considerably clearer this time.  
  
“Your vitals are stable,” he replies.  
  
You watch him as he drops the railing on the side of your bed and takes a seat beside you, reaching out to run his fingers through your hair.  You smile and nuzzle into his hand, enjoying the heat of his gentle touch.  You clear your throat weakly and are about to ask him for water when he’s holding a cup out to you, the straw pointed at your lips. You sip gratefully, taking several long pulls on the straw before Leonard pulls it away again.  
  
“Slow down, darlin’,” he says with a chuckle. “You don’t want to make yourself sick.”  
  
You grin at him tiredly.  
  
“I’m sure you’ve shot me up with enough Zofran to take down a horse,” you tease.  “I know you’d never let anything happen to me, however minor.”  
  
“You’ve got that right,” he says warmly.  
  
You reach for his hand, tangling your fingers in with his, being careful not to dislodge your IV line in the process.  A question sits on your lips as you regard him and you can feel your heart thump uneasily in your chest.  Your physical reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the doctor as the monitor overhead chirps and he frowns as he looks from it to you.  
  
“I’m fine,” you say hurriedly before he can make a mountain out of a molehill.  “I just… What’s my prognosis, doc?”  
  
He holds your gaze, his expression kind and reassuring as he reaches out with his free hand to cup your cheek.  
  
“I don’t anticipate any complications,” he assures you.  “Your post-op scans show no residual affected chromaffin cells.  I just want to watch your heart rate and blood pressure for a few days, and after that you’re off the hook.”  
  
You relax instantly at his words and sink back against the pillow beneath you.  Your heart rate dips back down to normal levels within a minute or two now that you know everything is going to be okay and you squeeze Leonard’s hand tightly.  
  
“Thank you,” you say quietly.  “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”


	15. Bones x Reader - Trypophobia

You stand next to a bio bed, ready and waiting for a patient.  The crew of the Enterprise had just rescued a group of hostages from the fringes of Klingon space and there were many sick and injured.  Your orders are simple: wait for them to be brought into medical and attend to them as best you can until a doctor can come by to take a look at their wounds.  You’ve been a nurse for so long that you feel like you’re ready for whatever challenges these patients of various alien races will bring.  
  
The doors open and you welcome the first patient – a frightfully thin looking humanoid with pale green skin and a ridge atop their skull not unlike the sagittal crest possessed by ancient Terran australopithecines.  You gesture toward the bed and they collapse onto it more than climbing up so you give them a hand in lying back.  Once they’re settled, you activate the bed and try to make sense of their vital signs, recalling as much xenophysiology as you can as you make your assessment.  
  
You talk them through the procedures as you set some scans to run so they’re ready for whichever doctor comes by to see to them, explaining that you need to remove the awful, prison-type jumpsuit they’re wearing in order to get a better look at their wounds.  They agree and you get to work on the zipper, gasping as you reveal their abdomen.  
  
On the creature’s skin are hundreds of small, deep indentations with dark purple centers, making them look not unlike lotus seed pods.  Your breath catches in your throat and you stumble away so quickly you knock over a tray of instruments, sending them clattering to the floor.  No one eve notices the ado in all of the chaos.  No one, that is, aside from your CMO.  He’s at your side instantly, glancing from your patient to you, his voice loud so he can be heard over the din as he asks you what happened.  
  
“I can’t,” you say, vaguely gesturing at the patient on the table, your breathing becoming ragged as your heart rate climbs.  “The indentations… Oh, God!”  
  
You catch yourself on a strangled sob and turn on your heel, bolting from the room.  You can hear Dr. McCoy calling after you and you know you’re going to be in trouble later on but you don’t stop running until you’ve reached your quarters.  
  
You’re not sure how much time goes by as you sit curled up on your couch, knees pulled up to your chest, before you hear a knock at the door.  You don’t say a word, and you hear another knock, followed by more silence, before you hear a code being punched into the keypad outside.  You know it’s Leonard even before he moves into your line of sight, and you keep your teary eyes downcast, running a shaky hand through your hair.  
  
“What was all that, darlin’?”  He asks you softly, taking a seat beside you and resting a hand on one of yours, stroking his thumb over your knuckles to steady your trembling.  
  
“Her skin,” you breathe.  “All those indents…”  
  
As you talk about it, your breathing becomes more and more shallow, your mind flashing back to the pock marks with their sinister dark centers.  Leonard doesn’t let the anxiety win, though; he takes you in his arms and gently strokes your back, murmuring soft reassurances into your ear and kissing your temple.  
  
“Trypophobia,” he offers, and you’re startled by his insight.  
  
You nod mutely, burrowing your face into his neck, inhaling his scent and fighting the onslaught of flashbacks..  
  
“It’s okay, darlin’,” he says gently.  “I’ve got you.  You’re safe.”


	16. Bones x Reader - Vaginismus

You resist the urge to run out of the med bay and never look back as you wait for Dr. McCoy to join you. Part of you is already regretting the conversation you’re about to have with him, but the other part of you would rather it be here in the med bay rather than up in your quarters in the heat of the moment.  Besides, your chance for escape disappears before your eyes as Leonard walks into the room, his features alight with mingled happiness and surprise as he see it’s you sitting on the bio bed.  
  
“Hey, darlin’, what brings you in today?” He asks, his tone light and friendly as he comes to stand before you and leans in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.  
  
Your relationship is still, by your account, in its infancy, though you’ve been seeing one another for over a month.  You haven’t gotten into bed together yet, and that’s the reason you’re seated where you are, on a sterile, impersonal bio bed instead of your own soft and comfortable one.  
  
“I need to ask you about something,” you reply quietly, averting your gaze.  “Well, I need to tell you something.  Kind of both, actually.”  
  
You can feel his gaze burning into you as you roll some words around in your head and when you speak a moment later, it’s in a jumbled, unclear murmur and your words come out sounding nothing like they’re meant to.  
  
“What was that, sweetheart?”  He asks.  
  
“It’s kind of personal,” you say lightly. “But I guess you’re gonna find out sooner or later anyway, so…”  
  
You hazard a brief glance up at him but immediately cast your gaze floorward once more.  
  
“I can’t have sex,” you say flatly.  
  
“What do you mean?”  Leonard queries, his tone confused and concerned, but amicable.  
  
“I’m too tight,” you reply.  “I can’t… take anything inside.”  
  
Reaching out, the doctor gently encourages you to look up at him, nudging the underside of your chin.  You do so slowly, biting your lip, and you’re glad to find warmth and compassion in his gaze.  He goes on to ask you a lot of questions – are you sexually active, how long has it been a problem, is it all penetration or just sometimes – and then coaxes you out of your clothes and into a standard-issue thin, cotton gown for an exam that’s a lot less uncomfortable than you’d anticipated with him doing his best to be gentle with you.  Once it’s all said and done, you change back into your clothes and sit with your hands knotted in your lap, looking up at Leonard.  
  
“Well, darlin’, everything checks out,” he explains.  “Your exam was normal, which is good news; it means we can start treating you any time without fear of complications.”  
  
“How do we treat it?”  You ask, expecting him to pull out a hypo or some kind of fancy machine.  
  
“With a little bit of time and a lot of TLC,” he replies.  
  
He explains the treatment – Kegel exercises several times a day and desensitization therapy over the course of couple of weeks.  You stare at him wide-eyed as he finishes explaining the process of desensitization to you in full, unadulterated detail.  
  
“You want me to finger myself every day until I stretch out and relax enough to take your cock in me?”  You sputter.  
  
He laughs softly and reaches out, setting a hand on your knee and stroking it gently with his thumb.  
  
“You make it sound so crass,” he comments. “It’s a legitimate therapy for this issue, and I’m happy to help you with it.”  
  
Your brain threatens to shut down on you at the thought of your boyfriend and physician fingering you daily for such a clinical reason and you recoil a little.  
  
“Nothing ruins the romance like the thought of such impersonal penetration,” you say wryly.  
  
Another laugh bubbles out of him and you glare at him until you hear his next words, at which time butterflies begin to make themselves known in your stomach as you consider the implications and your eyes widen in surprise.  
  
“I didn’t say anything about it having to be impersonal,” he says with a cheeky grin.  “The treatment is almost always even more successful when you make it  _fun_.”


End file.
